


The Hunter

by thequeenmeera



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, i am disappointed in the ending but this is the best i can do, in which arya is warging the big bad wolf, red riding hood retelling, which is nymeria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18890515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenmeera/pseuds/thequeenmeera
Summary: The wolves are everywhere





	The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea for a Little Red Riding Hood inspired Gendrya fic and wrote it.

_“Don’t wander off the path or the wolves’ll get you!”_ children of the Riverlands all knew.

**The Smith**

Gendry knew better than to go out at night, or to wander off the path in the woods. The wolves were everywhere and ravenous now that winter was setting in.

“We cannot stay inside forever,” he’d told Jeyne, “I’ll purchase the food.”

He had an axe and wore rough mail beneath his tunic. They could risk being eaten or they could starve. Gendry would take his chances.

His steps were heavy, crunching through the hard crust over dirty snow and the twigs beneath it. The woods were full of shadows, many of them moved. Trees and deer and wolves, so many wolves. It was as if every wolf in all Westeros had converged on the Riverlands. A punishment from the gods of the Starks. Freys were attacked more than anyone else Gendry knew. Their twin castles had once been bursting with Freys, their spouses, their children and grandchildren. Now what few remained did not dare wander out of their gates. There had even been rumors of a pack managing to get in the gates of a holdfast. He doubted the truth of it but it was a frightful thought.

The wolves were so thick on the land that only fools went out of doors. Fools or brave men. Gendry had never met anyone who truly knew of a child who had been harmed in the years the wolves had been ravaging the lands but no mother would take the risk of sending children for food or supplies. Well, excepting the mad ones.

One of his orphans had talked of a little girl with a red cloak being sent out to bring food to her mother’s mother and was eaten on her way. In another version the girl became a wolf. It was all nonsense anyway.

**The Hunter**

_Good boots are hard to find_ , she thought as she re-tied the laces. She packed her bedroll and stowed them in the hollow of the tree where it would be hidden, protected from ice and snow. Her blade, Needle, was hidden under her blood-red cloak which was growing tattered and the gore never quite came out. She needed a new one. Her wolves were waiting for her; prey was harder and harder to find without her aid.

There was a deer carcass near her sleeping spot, left there by benevolent pack members. There was meat aplenty for her to break her fast. Her flint and steel were running low, she hoped her pack’s next meal would have some for her to loot. There were a few pups still and they crowded about her, trying to grab the meat from her stake. She laughed and let the smallest of them eat from her hands.

Deer and other natural prey had, for the most part, been eaten already or had fled their territory. With their disappearance food became ever more scarce for wolf and man. She sought to relieve that problem. Most men would do better as food.

She made her way out to the road and began walking, waiting for someone to take the bait.

**The Smith**

Ahead there was a spot of red, a figure moving through the snow, under the heavy-hanging branches, hurrying along. He moved to catch up to them. It would be safer travelling as a pair than alone. “Hey!” he yelled, trying to get their attention. The red-hooded figure moved faster as if to get away from him. Mayhap she was the ghost of that red-cloaked girl he had heard of?

He followed the girl, he assumed it was a girl or at least a child. Whoever it was they were rather small. They trudged over hills and into little valleys, following an icy stream. Gendry could not see the road, but had he ever really seen it? _I must be close to the market by now_ , he thought. The town had walls about it, high and strong enough to keep predators out. _It must be just over this rise_.

But when he crested the hill there was no town or walls to be seen. Only trees blanketed in old gray snow. The world was made up of mottled grays and browns with flashes of white. And that red cloak like a drop of blood in the snow.

The forest grew more dense as he descended into the valley, always following the red cloak. He thought he could see movement out the corner of his eye but whenever he turned his head there was nothing but trees. Something crunched underfoot and when he glanced down he saw bones. There was still bits of skin hanging off them.

Then the red cloak disappeared into the shadows. He called out and tried to follow but froze when he heard a growl on one side. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he pulled the axe from his belt.

There was a wolf to his side, a big black one. Gendry raised his arm to strike only to see another one creep into his sight from the other side. The growling was everywhere and he turned about to see wolves all around.

An even deeper growl sounded behind him and he saw something massive moving in the trees. A wolf the size of a warhorse. A _direwolf_. He remembered the tales the children shared, _The girl turns into a wolf and kills the men with her great big teeth!_

**The Hunter**

She saw him through her wolf’s eyes. Big and strong, he’d make a good meal. Much better than the scrawny, rat-faced men they so often ate. He smelled like other men and ale and bread. She stepped forward and he raised his piece of steel. He yelled something in man-speak. She snarled at him and stepped forward to make the kill.

 _No_ , thought the sleeping girl. _No I know him, he is not food_.

She stepped back, forced by her woman.

The man took this for a sign and charged only for one of the little wolves to leap at him. He swung and the axe sunk deep in the wolf’s skull.

The pack rushed in, hungry for blood. Hungry for vengeance. Her wolf-paws leapt forward and the woman half stopped her, snapping her jaws shut.

The little wolves had dragged the man down to the ground. He screamed and swung his axe. He was hers! She turned on her pack-mates, grabbing and snarling. _He is mine!_ She told them with her growls. _Mine!_

The man got back to his feet. His clothes were torn and tattered, scratches covered his face. He braced himself and raised the axe once more.

She snarled and jumped, scaring the smaller wolves away. Her woman slipped out of her skin, back into her own. She tensed, ready to leap.

**The Smith**

He yelled at the biggest wolf again, holding his axe high. The other wolves stayed on the outer edges of his vision. Then the red cloak reappeared.

The hood blocked the face, their clothes were old and tattered, mostly made of leather and fur. He stared and she, it was a she, reached up, pulled back the hood.

He stared at her, she stared back. The wolf stood still and tense. “Arya?” he asked in disbelief.

“Gendry?”

He dropped the axe and she leapt into his arms. The wolves were no danger to him with her approval.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly disappointed with this ending but couldn't come up with anything better.


End file.
